In it lay the shovel with which the earth had
been thrown out.
Dalhousie fixed his eyes upon the pit. A new thought animated him. "_I_
began to dig that pit for gold; I will continue it for water," muttered
he, as he seized the shovel, and commenced digging. Awhile he labored
with the energy of desperation; but, enfeebled by long fasting, and
unused to such severe toil, he soon felt his strength give way. It
appeared to be his only hope, the only ministration of comfort to the
loved one beside him, and he strove manfully against the weakness which
beset him. An hour he labored; but not a drop of moisture rewarded his
toil. Overcome by his exertions, he seated himself upon the brink of the
pit, and gave way to the agonizing emotions which filled his soul. A
sigh from his wife roused him to a new effort, and, partially
invigorated by the few moments' rest, he again applied himself to his
task. The ground was of a moist character, and he had every
encouragement of soon finding the coveted treasure. Animated by this
hope, he redoubled his efforts, and for another hour despair nerved his
arm, and strengthened his sinking frame.
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